Cheshire stood on Alice’s body, staring at her peaceful face. If anyone who didn’t know them would step inside the scenario, he would think Cheshire was the villain. Perhaps he was… in Alice’s point of view. The contempt Cheshire built up over the years subsided but not as what he thought it would be like.

The blades inside his hands always itched. It always wanted to find its way through Alice’s flesh and now that it did, it stopped itching. Alice was evil yet she looked so innocent now that she was sleeping. Who was he even to judge Alice as evil? Cheshire was evil but Alice was a monster.

A monster finding an evil creature was the best thing that could ever happen. If Alice hadn’t captured him and his friends, the guardians would be hunting them. Of course, that was just wishful thinking. As Rocket said, there’s no justice in what Cheshire did. It also applied with Alice. But the milk has been spilled now… best to just move on.

The canopy of dark clouds subsided, revealing the sky splashed with an orangey hue. The rays of the sun lined the heavens just as its last light cast their shadows behind them. Few of the warriors remain and like them, they all stared at the sunset…almost.

The Tweedles managed to deactivate Time’s automatic reset of the loop. It could be that now, they were returning to the original timeline and there’s no guarantee when that was.

Rocket could feel it… he could feel himself go away.

“That’s it?” Rocket groaned, catching Cheshire’s attention. “After you finish fighting, you don’t even check up on me?”

Cheshire turned and then captured Rocket before the injured raccoon could fall on the ground. He placed Rocket’s arm around his neck and helped him up.

“I’ll heal you…” Cheshire said.

“No,” Rocket immediately refused. “I want to have these scars… as a reminder that this really happened… that you really exist.”

A breath escaped Cheshire. Of course. For a moment, he forgot that Rocket was just anchored by the infinity gem. And now that the loop is broken, they were slowly returning to the original timeline.

“Will I see you again?” Cheshire asked.

Silence ensued.

They were both afraid of saying it. Cheshire was just much braver than Rocket seeing as he asked that unspoken thing.

Rocket shrugged. “I don’t know how the infinity stones work…” he said. They looked towards Alice’s platform—James held Mctwisp under his arm and scratched the white rabbit’s head with his knuckle as the little dormouse cheered for him.

“Who knew?” Cheshire said under his breath, “That Mctwisp had been on our side all along?”

Rocket snorted. “That white rabbit really has a strong spot for you.”

“It almost sounded like you were jealous.” Cheshire pulled Rocket close by the side of the waist.

“Like hell I would be jealous,” Rocket chortled.

They looked towards Baeley and Iracebeth. The young bloodhound lead the red queen to the body of her sister just as the warriors marched, carrying the body of their previous chief. Tarrant was with the Tweedles, tinkering with the robot, probably thinking of how to control it.

The battlefield was a pile of bodies and destroyed machinery—the fruit of their rebellion. After resetting for so many times, they were finally free.

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“What now?” Cheshire broke the unobtrusive silence. In truth, he was afraid—more than ever. As if war hadn’t been a good enough reason for him to be afraid.

Rocket swallowed. He limped towards a clear area while Cheshire assisted him. “I guess you watch me disappear?” Rocket said half-jokingly. “It would be a nice change after watching you vanish all the time.”

“Don’t say that…” Cheshire’s voice was hoarse.

Rocket didn’t expect that. Even as he had grown to understand Cheshire by heart just as he understands Groot’s ‘I am Groot’, he was still caught by surprise when Cheshire was much sadder than he appeared to be.

“Your smile bested me again,” the raccoon said. “I guess I’ve only grown used to seeing it on you. It’s still so deceiving.”

“I’m done…” Cheshire laughed wryly, “I’m done smiling…I can finally have Tarrant remove these hinges.”

Rocket pinched Cheshire’s chin and made the cat look at him. “I’d like that…”

It was twilight—the sky was mostly dark and the last trace of day was in the far west. The Cheshire moon was above them just as two other moons which Rocket failed to notice before. The raccoon got up.

“I guess I’m going now…”

“So soon?” Cheshire asked. “I still have a lot of things I want to do—things I want to know…”

Rocket limped in front of Cheshire, placing both hands on the cat’s shoulders. “We’ll do them…” Rocket said. He was less opaque now—almost hollow that Cheshire could see past him.

Cheshire closed in on Rocket and slightly bent up to meet the raccoon’s ear. “Fairfarren, my love,” he whispered and backed away.

The colors of Wonderland faded. The sky turned monochromatic as the ground desaturated to grayscale. Cheshire’s blue color faded and left him flat. A dot of light outshone the grayness of the canvas and it homed for Rocket, almost blinding him.

As it swallowed him, he awoke with a hypnic jerk—as if his soul departed the body and was pulled back in.

“If you’re gonna sleep, do it in your quarters, man,” Peter said. “You’re gonna drop my Zune from the table.”

Rocket was back at the Milano—below deck. He lied on the table which he claimed to do his work. Piles of junk were on top of it as well as Peter’s Zune that almost fell from the edge. Drax sat on a crate across him, paused from sharpening his blade as he looked at Rocket solemnly.

“It seems as though as you have awakened from a nightmare.” Drax froze a minute before exploding into laughter. “What a truly entertaining sight to behold,” he said through the gap of his laugh. “A tough creature you claim yourself to be, frightened to consciousness by mere figments of the mind!”

“I am Groot.” A hand found its way on Rocket’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, buddy.” Rocket was panting subtly, “Just as Drax said—a nightmare.” It was hardly that anymore though, Rocket wasn’t sure. Everything was vague as if the information inside his mind was jumbled. There was difficulty in recalling the past.

“How could you possibly have a nightmare in such a short span of time?” Gamora asked. She leaned on a wall before the stairs to the piloting area, arms folded on her chest.

“How long was I out?” Rocket returned.

“An hour—”

“An hour?!” Rocket was surprised. For some reason, it felt more than that. There were sensations sticking around with him similar to days that stretched usually longer. There were vague memories—too vague and were just abstract—about something colored blue… or was it a name or a place?

“What are you so surprised about?” Peter asked, “You complained about not having enough sleep so you slept while you were working.”

Rocket thought for a while and then he remembered. He did complain about not getting enough sleep. Everything after that was a haze.

“Did you dream about something important?”

“I don’t recall…” Rocket answered but at the corner of his mind, something was definitely hiding. He longed for something he didn’t know. His hands were finding something he wasn’t sure about and the most annoying part was his lips feeling so cold without a reason. “I remember experiences like floating in the air… or my hands finding another.”

“That almost sounded poetic coming from you,” Drax retorted seriously.

“What’s surprising about it is that it’s actually sincere,” Peter said.

“I am Groot,” Groot seconded.

Rocket growled. “I’m trying to recall something important here and you’re all distracting me.”

“It sounded to me like you were in love,” Gamora interjected.

Rocket gave out a sarcastic laugh, filling the entire room with its authenticity. “Me, in love?” Rocket asked as if it was the most absurd thing ever. “Even if I were, what would you know about it? You and Peter haven’t even gotten together though it’s obvious Star-munch likes you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, this isn’t about me, man,” Peter interjected.

“So what?” Rocket hissed, “It’s true so don’t try and tell me anything about something as pathetic as that.”

“I…am…Groot?” Groot’s words caught Rocket off guard but not enough to actually convince the raccoon.

Rocket grunted, “If it was Lylla…I’d know.”